


I Can See You In The Mirror

by YZYdragon2222



Series: Potterstuck [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Homestuck
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Confessions, Disability, First Kiss, Gryffindor, Gryffindor!Tavros, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts, Homestuck - Freeform, Insecurities, Love, M/M, Magic, Mirror of Erised, Potterstuck, Revelations, Slytherin, Slytherin!Gamzee, Tavros in a Wheelchair, Wizarding families, blood status
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 14:26:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14522580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YZYdragon2222/pseuds/YZYdragon2222
Summary: “The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is.” -Albus DumbledoreWas it possible?  Was it possible that Gamzee had want for nothing in the world?





	I Can See You In The Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> I’m starting a new series of Potterstuck one-shots, which will basically be Homestuck shenanigans set in the Harry Potter universe. I’ll be working on them in between chapters if I Can Feel You Across The Line. One-shots will not follow any chronological order but will all take place in the same Potterstuck AUverse. Our main characters (the beta trolls) go to Hogwarts in a post-DH wizarding world. Backstories will be revealed in time.
> 
> Have yourself a little Sorting Ceremony to establish the setting (all the trolls are in the same year at Hogwarts):
> 
> Ampora, Eridan: “RAVENCLAW!”  
> Captor, Sollux: “RAVENCLAW!”  
> Leijon, Nepeta: “GRYFFINDOR!”  
> Makara, Gamzee: “SLYTHERIN!”  
> Maryam, Kanaya: “HUFFLEPUFF!”  
> Megido, Aradia: “RAVENCLAW!”  
> Nitram, Tavros: “GRYFFINDOR!”  
> Peixes, Feferi: “HUFFLEPUFF!”  
> Pyrope, Terezi: “HUFFLEPUFF!”  
> Serket, Vriska: “SLYTHERIN!”  
> Vantas, Karkat: “GRYFFINDOR!”  
> Zahhak, Equius: “SLYTHERIN!”
> 
> P.S. I couldn’t resist making Tavros say “bloody hell”. But I honestly NO SPEAK BRITISH. I tried tho

It was midnight—and fourth-year student Tavros Nitram knew that there wasn’t a single good reason to be sneaking out of Gryffindor Tower right now (as he had been doing every single night for the past several weeks)—and a plethora of very bad reasons to be committing said act. Not only was it extremely against school rules to be wandering the corridors at this time of night, but it was also extremely difficult to transport himself and his wheelchair all the way down Gryffindor Tower without making a peep.

But he had an addiction, and even though he knew that this addiction was very unhealthy, he couldn’t stop.

He heaved himself out of his wheelchair and into the portrait hole, before climbing through it, army style, dragging his dead, lifeless lower half on the cold stone behind him. After so many years as a Hogwarts student, he was rather used to this procedure, but it didn’t make it any less unpleasant.

Once he was on the other side, he turned back and pointed his phoenix-core wand through the hole and whispered, “Accio wheelchair!” At least he had the insight to fold the chair up before crawling through the hole this time. He’d made the mistake of forgetting to do just that, once, and had paid the price by getting his mobility device stuck in the middle of the portrait hole. Luckily Nepeta had been nearby to get him out of that fix, that time.

He climbed into the chair and began levitating himself down the long and winding staircases, thinking to himself that he should be grateful that he could at least do this on his own, now. During his first year at Hogwarts, a fifth-year Gryffindor prefect had had to accompany him everywhere to help him navigate the very wheelchair-inaccessible castle. Tavros was pretty sure the prefect had done it either because she pitied him or because Professor Flitwick offered her extra credit for helping the poor first-year cripple.

“I shouldn’t be surprised that the best Gryffindor House has to offer are rule-breaking gimps,” one of the portraits hissed as Tavros rounded a corner.

“Oh, give the lad a rest,” another replied. “He’s a teenager, and it can’t be very liberating to spend all that time in a chair!”

Tavros resolutely ignored them, not wanting to admit how deeply the words of a talking canvas cut him.

He arrived at the bottom of the staircase and quickly dispelled the levitation charm. He tucked his wand into the front pocket of his robes, cast a quick silencing charm on the wheels, and began maneuvering himself through Hogwarts’s vast halls, Muggle-style. Of course, he could easily bewitch his wheelchair to move by itself, but he wanted something to do with his hands. It was bad enough that his legs could do nothing but sit there uselessly—the last thing he wanted was for his arms to lie idly in his lap, as well.

Tavros had lost the use of his legs—and his parents—at age eight in a car crash. Or so he had once thought. His memory of the incident was incredibly blurry. Upon his arrival at Hogwarts during his first year, he had experienced an array of emotions so colorful that he’d been positive he’d start vomiting rainbows: fear, excitement, confusion, elation, bewilderment that magic was fucking real—but most of all, hope, that this all-powerful magic could heal a few measly nerves in his spine. But Headmistress McGonagall had kindly invited him to the Headmaster’s Office upon his arrival, warmly welcomed him as a new member of the House of lions, and assured him that the Hogwarts staff and students would act to the best of their ability to accommodate him. Only after he outright ungracefully blurted out the question of whether his paralysis could be magically fixed, did McGonagall gain that guilty sheen in her eyes and explain to him that he had not, in fact, been paralyzed in a car accident; he had been hit in the lower spine by a Dark Witch—who was, rest assured, dead—and that injuries caused by Dark spells couldn’t be healed.

If it had not been a car accident, what had happened to his parents? Were they magical as well? McGonagall informed him that it was a story for when he was older.

At age fourteen, Tavros now felt very much old enough to know why he was an orphan and why he couldn’t fucking walk like every other witch and wizard at Hogwarts. But of course, despite being a Gryffindor, he wasn’t brave enough to say that to McGonagall’s face, so he remained in oblivion for now.

As Tavros continued wheeling through the empty corridors, he was once again awestruck by the sheer beauty and vastness of Hogwarts Castle: the high-vaulted ceilings, the intricate carvings on the stone walls, the stain-glass windows, the flickering flames of the enchanted torches that lined the corridors...attributes of Hogwarts that were easy to forget when he was attempting to navigate the crowded hallways in the daytime, trying to rush to class without running over anyone’s toes or having his cauldron spill out of his lap, or getting spotted by the likes of Vriska Serket and other Slytherin bullies.

It was exceptionally quiet tonight—not even a ghost did he run into, or, hell forbid, Peeves. On some nights there would be the pitter-patter of rain on the windows, or the whistling of the wind against the trees outside, or the cooing of owls in the Forbidden Forest. But not tonight. It was so quiet that all Tavros could hear was the sound of his own breathing. It was so quiet that--

He could hear the odd shuffling coming from somewhere within the walls.

Tavros froze, though his mind was travelling a million miles a minute. He assessed his current situation and realized that he was right in front of a corridor lined with paintings of food (he vaguely recognized this corridor as the Hufflepuff Common Room entrance), and that there was no obvious place for him to hide. He could certainly try to cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, but he hadn’t quite mastered it yet and a teacher or prefect would most certainly see right through sloppily-cast spellwork.

But as it were, Tavros was too petrified with panic at the moment to even pull his wand out of his pocket. He only sat there, eyes wide as saucers as the shuffling grew louder, and closer—and suddenly a gigantic painting of a bowl of fruit swung open and a messy-haired Slytherin came ambling out of the door.

The Slytherin didn’t seem to notice the wheelchair-bound Gryffindor at first, instead tipping a goblet of what looked like a firewhisky down his throat. The student was definitely too young to be drinking alcohol, but considering that said student was Gamzee Makara, it was no surprise.

Only when Tavros sighed loudly with relief did Gamzee look away from his goblet and notice the other student. Gamzee seemed surprised, but remain unruffled. Instead, a slow, lazy grin spread across his face. Raising his goblet and winking at Tavros, he grinned, “Did I put too much of this shit in myself or is there a motherfuckin’ miracle right before my naked eyes, brother?”

Tavros winced, because Gamzee was talking a little too loudly (it was truly a miracle the carefree boy hadn’t yet been caught for his illicit activities), so he cast a quick Muffliato. Still, he couldn’t help the smile that sneaked its way onto his own face. “If you were, uh, a referring to me, then yes, my presence in front of your, uh, eyes, is indeed a fact that is real...even though I hardly qualify as a miracle, I think.”

“Naw mate, you’re the most miraculous a motherfuckin’ miracle could be up and bein’,” Gamzee said, slinking in front of Tavros and kneeling in front of his chair so that the crippled Gryffindor wouldn’t have to strain his neck looking up at him. Gamzee was aware of his freakish height (his least-favorite Housemate Vriska Serket often accused him of being part-troll). “‘Cept you bein’ here, with me, of course. That’s an even more miraculous motherfuckin’ miracle.”

“Not that, I don’t think it’s miraculous to be seeing you here, as well, but uh...what are you doing here? I thought...this was where the Hufflepuff Common Room was...not that I know how to get in! But...uh…you’re in Slytherin...and it’s past curfew...uh...”

Gamzee scratched his head, “This place is where the Hufflepuffs are all at? Aw motherfuck, I ain’t wantin’ to mess none with my badger bros, I just felt like gettin’ my chomp on in the kitchens. Ain’t no motherfuckin’ miracle when that lil’ werewolf’s up and growling in this motherfucker’s stomach in the middle of the night.”

“Wha...the kitchens?”

Gamzee grinned impishly and pointed at the painting of fruit he had come out of. “Most miraculous place in all of Hogwarts, Tavbro. Just tickle the motherfuckin’ pear and it’ll giggle and shit and the door handle will grow out of the motherfuckin’ canvas like a motherfuckin’ miracle. The motherfuckin’ house elves have got all the wicked treats brother, and just ask like a polite motherfucker and they’ll give you all the fuckin’ whiskey and pie you want! Been knockin’ the door to this motherfuckin’ elf hive since like, second fuckin’ year, bro.”

Tavros blinked, amused that Gamzee had been coming to wheedle food and drink out of the kitchen elves for more than two years and had not even realized that this was also the entrance to the Hufflepuff Basement. Then again, Tavros himself had never realized that the kitchens were here as well.

“Mate, we gotta get our motherfuckin’ food-scourin’ together one of these wicked nights. We’ll be the illest pair of digger bros mining for the munchies, man!”

Tavros smiled. “That sounds like a very cool, and adventurous thing to do, and even though I don’t think I’m cool enough to participate in such an activity, it is still very much something that I would like to do, uh, with you.”

“Motherfuckin’ bitchtits, mate!”

Sometimes Tavros could barely believe that he was friends with Gamzee Makara. The Makaras were a well-known pureblood family that specialized in potion-making, often of the illegal kind. They were wealthy and probably hosted more than a few Dark wizards and witches in their family tree, and it was no surprise when the youngest heir was sorted into Slytherin House. Tavros would have been perfectly content to never ever speak to the young pureblood ever, were it not for the fact that he wasn’t given a choice in the matter: on his first Potions class during his first year, the professor had asked students to pair up and, before he’d even had the time to put down his quill, the young Slytherin had plopped himself down next to Tavros and declared that the two of them would make the sickest pair of elixir-mixing brothers in all of history. To this day, they were still Potions partners, although they hadn’t quite lived up to Gamzee’s prediction; the Makara was brilliant but Tavros rather sucked balls at Potions. Gamzee’s help was the only reason he hadn’t gotten a T in the class.

But despite Gamzee’s friendliness, Tavros could never be completely comfortable around him: even though Gamzee had a plethora of faults, like his addiction to certain soporific potions and his bizarre devotion to the Weird Sisters, Tavros was constantly reminded, both by himself and his peers, of how much better Gamzee was than him. The tall boy was a wealthy, confident pureblood who was a ferociously skilled Beater on the Slytherin Quidditch Team. Tavros was just a poor, cowardly Muggle-born cripple--Gryffindor House’s embarrassment.

And let’s not even get started on all those who frowned upon their friendship. Despite the thawing relationship between Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses after the Second Wizarding War, there were still many who were opposed--sometimes violently--to any sign of camaraderie between the two Houses. Tavros didn’t share any of their views, but...well, sometimes he cared too much about what other people thought about him.

And then there was the incident from two weeks ago. Tavros had been working on his Transfiguration essay out under his favorite tree by the Great Lake, when Gamzee, mud-caked and sweaty after Quidditch practice, stumbled over to Tavros, broom still in hand.

“‘Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey, my brother,” the Slytherin had trilled. “You’re just who I was lookin’ for. Man, motherfucker got himself so fuckin’ beat, my eyes ain’t seein’ the proper shit and it motherfuckin’ appears like there are three Tavbros all up and propped up against the fuckin’ tree like a motherfuckin’ miracle.”

“Uh, hi, Gamzee,” Tavros has nervously replied, “I promise, there’s only one of me, here.”

“Nah, but three Tavbros ain’t no problem all up in this motherfucker.” And then he’d gone on to remark, as though commenting on the weather, “You look so motherfuckin’ miraculous and shit, with that cute-ass red Gryffindor tie all scrunched up ‘round your neck, and the sun hittin’ your skin at all the right motherfuckin’ angles. Makes this motherfucker wanna get all cozy with that motherfuckin’ tree with you and maybe snog a little.”

Tavros had felt as though his eyeballs had been hit with an Engorgement charm, so greatly had they widened. He was in the process of incoherently spluttering when Gamzee promptly threw down his broomstick, collapsed on the ground, sprawled on top of Tavros’s legs, and begun snoring, fast asleep.

Tavros had immediately extricated himself from underneath Gamzee and fled, and may or may not have accidentally rolled over Gamzee’s unconscious form with his chair as he did so. He plainly hadn’t given a shit, because his mind was racing with questions of what Gamzee had meant—had he been serious, and whether Tavros wanted him to be.

But when Gamzee had spoken to him the next day as if nothing had ever happened, Tavros presumed that the Makara has probably been dared by his Slytherin teammates to say those things to the pathetic Gryffindor cripple. He didn’t blame Gamzee for it and never brought it up.

Back in the present, he blinked a few times; he’d gotten lost in his thoughts, and as he refocused he realized that Gamzee’s curious eyes were staring intently at his face, looking sharper than they normally were. Tavros was suddenly hyper aware of the way the flickering torches reflected in Gamzee’s irises, making them appear a deep purple. A deep blush rose to his cheeks, although he wasn’t sure why.

“Well...Tavros,” Gamzee finally said, after a slightly awkward silence, his voice softer and more hesitant than before. “I’m sure a brother’s got some serious shit to crack if he’s out and rollin’ away from all them sweet dreams at this time of the day. Just don’t get caught, okay? You’d lose us a wicked load of motherfuckin’ points.”

“We’re not even in the same House, though,” Tavros pointed out. “It’d be good for Slytherin House if I lost Gryffindor points.”

“Oh, yeah. I up and motherfuckin’ forgot that kind of sad noise, man. Eh, it’d still be wicked uncool for my lion-kitty motherfuckers to lose them House Cup rubies, I guess.”

Another awkward silence settled over the pair, and Tavros took the time to think how odd this was, for a Gryffindor and Slytherin to be convening in the Hufflepuff corridor. Finally, he blurted out, “You’re not...gonna ask what I was doing out after curfew?” Tavros wondered why he was asking such a thing. He should have been relieved that Gamzee wasn’t prying.

“Mate, I don’t wanna impose some sort of motherfuckin’ obligation on your fine self to tell me,” Gamzee said, scratching the back of his head. “I motherfuckin’ know...what it’s like to be doin’ shit in the middle of the motherfuckin’ night that you don’t want no other motherfucker ever gettin’ their peep on about.” A dark look flickered over Gamzee’s eyes, but it quickly disappeared, leaving Tavros to wonder whether it was ever there in the first place.

“Uh…” Tavros hesitated. He didn’t understand why he felt compelled to share his secret now, when minutes ago he had been content with never ever letting anyone know about it. Perhaps it was the genuinity, vulnerability, and unexpected clarity in those torchlight-reflecting eyes. Perhaps it was the fact that Gamzee was thoughtful enough not to pry about Tavros’s personal activities, despite catching him in a suspicious place at a suspicious time. Perhaps it was the fact that they were alone, with no judgmental students, no ludicrous House bias, standing between them. Perhaps it was because Gamzee was one of the only people who ever treated Tavros like a real person, like a real friend, like a real wizard.

“Well, it’s...this room,” Tavros finally began to explain. “It’s, the adjoining room to the Restricted Section, of the library. I found it, when, uh, I was looking for books about Dark Creatures in that part of the library...anyway, the topic of my study, is kind of irrelevant to this conversation. Uh, so the room, well, in itself is pretty unspectacular, but, there is something in there, that is, uh, pretty spectacular, and well, even though I think, it’s pretty bad to be going there to see it, I mean bad but not like, Vriska bad, uh...I’m, letting the spectacularity, overrule the badness, because I really like going there, even though I also, kind of hate it and...oh bloody hell. I’m rambling…”

“Nah motherfucker, your wicked tongue makes the music to this motherfucker’s ears,” Gamzee said. “But shit’s up and a bit too complicated for a simple-minded brother to be gettin’ his understandin’ on…”

Tavros stared at Gamzee for a few moments, thinking hard. Then, he swiftly grabbed the wheels of his chair and turned them around, pushing himself down the corridor towards the library, where he’d intended to go all along. “I’ll show you,” he said to Gamzee.

Gamzee fidgeted in place for a few seconds, staring after Tavros in confusion. “Brother, I don’t wanna be intrudin’ upon the sacred midnight rituals of yours--”

Tavros turned his head around and smiled at Gamzee to reassure him. His grin was somewhat wobbly in his nervousness, but it was sincere. “I want to show you,” he said.

That was enough to get Gamzee to jog a couple steps to catch up with his wheelchair-bound friend. “Okay,” Gamzee said.

The two of them fell into an easy silence as they made their way to the library, Tavros pushing his chair and the Gamzee walking alongside at a slow pace so that his disabled friend wouldn’t have to pump his wheels too hard to keep up with Gamzee’s long-legged stride.

Gamzee had never been to the library after hours. Admittedly, he didn’t spend too much time in there ever, period. But when he did, he always found it to be stuffy and suffocating, the heavy silence tyrannically enforced by Madam Pince as students slaved away on mind-numbing essays. It was different at night, though—one suddenly noticed how vast the shelves were, and the dark aisles seemed endless. There was a simultaneously peaceful and eerie feel to the whole place, the books on the walls whispering their dangerous secrets in silence…

“Could you give me, some light, please?” Tavros asked, bringing Gamzee back to reality. The Slytherin observed that Tavros seemed completely relaxed in the dark and somewhat creepy library, so accustomed was he to the place after coming here day after day both during and after hours. It promptly made Gamzee feel slightly stupid for spending so much time chilling in his dorm or goofing off on the grounds. “Lumos,” he muttered before his mind could wander too far off and make him look even more stupid in front of Tavros.

With Tavros in the lead, the duo made their way to the Restricted Section. “Alohomora,” Tavros muttered at the heavily-padlocked door. It slid open with a loud click, and Gamzee held the door open for Tavros to wheel through.

“I’ve never been up in here before,” Gamzee muttered, glancing around surreptitiously. Granted, his father probably had half of these dark, dangerous books in his library back home, but then again, Father’s library wasn’t a place Gamzee enjoyed visiting all that much.

“Oh? I’ve, uh, been here loads of times. Hagrid, uh, gives me permission, because he knows how much, I like reading about various creatures. Just, uh, don’t touch any of the books, they might, um, scream, or bite your hand off.” Gamzee’s eyes widened at the nonchalant tone Tavros employed, but smartly obeyed anyway.

They came to a stop between two bookshelves. Gamzee stared in silent confusion at what looked like a blank wall, but then Tavros leaned forward and tapped his wand on the stone surface. “Revelio.”

“Damn,” Gamzee commented as a door materialized on the formerly blank wall. “That’s so motherfuckin’ wicked, my brother. How’d you even all up and find this shit?”

“I, uh, just felt like something was supposed to be here, since the two shelves are so far apart, and uh, there are shoeprints that would suggest, someone had walked right into the wall, if there wasn’t anything past here. Alohomora.”

The secret door opened with a soft click, and because the doorway was narrow, Gamzee gently grasped the handles of Tavros’s wheelchair. “May I…?” he inquired, not wanting to push the disabled boy without permission. He knew Tavros could manage just fine, but sometimes Gamzee simply had the strongest urges to make things a little bit easier for the Gryffindor.

There was a moment’s silence, and Gamzee was just beginning to worry that he had offended Tavros somehow. But then he saw the mohawk bob up and down in agreement, and heard a soft, “Okay.”

Tavros sighed as Gamzee pushed him into the room that had become all too familiar by now. It was horrendously dusty, and he heard the Slytherin boy coughing a few times as they entered. There were some miscellaneous objects strewn in the corners of the room—chairs, broken desks, ratty old textbooks, but the main spectacle was the old, full-length mirror standing right in the middle.

Even with Gamzee present, Tavros could already feel the burning urge to look at the mirror crawling under his skin.

“‘I show not your face but your heart’s desire,” Gamzee read aloud. “Huh. What the motherfuck…”

Tavros blinked in surprise. “You, figured that out very quickly,” he said. “It took me days, before I realized what the inscription said…”

Gamzee grinned. “Motherfucker, when you’s all up and breathin’ those wicked elixirs all the time, you see a lot more shit backwards than just some motherfuckin’ mirrors.”

“It’s a special mirror,” Tavros explained. Unable to help himself, he pushed himself in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection. “I think, it’s supposed to show our heart’s deepest desire.” Tavros watched as his mirror-self grinned at him cheekily, confidently—then swiftly stood up out of the wheelchair on a pair of perfectly healthy, strong legs.

Gamzee watched, slightly worried, as Tavros’s eyes grew distant as he stared at himself in the mirror. He wanted to ask what it was Tavros saw, for as far as Gamzee could tell, the Gryffindor boy’s reflection didn’t look any different than his real miraculous person. “Brother, I don’t see no shit that’s different.”

“I see myself walking,” Tavros whispered. He turned around and looked at Gamzee. “I wasn’t always, like this, you know.” He rubbed his useless legs. “And I know…that it’s impossible for me to ever be...like him,” he gestured at his reflection, “but I guess it’s bittersweet, knowing that I wasn’t actually born this pathetic. That I could’ve, maybe, even played Quidditch or something. Flown. Even before I knew magic was real, I dreamed about flying. But it’s so much worse, when you find out that flying is actually something that’s possible, and not a totally fake dream, but still not be able to do it because of this crippled body. I hate this body.”

Tavros jerked in surprise when he suddenly felt a pair of wiry arms crushing him in an embrace from behind. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Gamzee approaching him.

“It all up and hurts my feelings when I hear that miraculous mouth talkin’ about my favorite motherfucker like that,” Gamzee growled lowly, his voice not threatening but full of sadness. It made Tavros’s heart clench with an overload of emotion, and unbidden, tears began to roll down his cheeks.

“S-sorry,” he sniffled.

“Don’t be gettin’ your motherfuckin’ apologize on, my brother, it’s this motherfucker’s job to keep that cute-ass smile on your face, and look at me all up and failin’.”

Despite himself, Tavros laughed, his voice still thick with tears. “Thanks, Gamzee, but you really, don’t have any such obligation.”

“Nah, bro, I’ll be doin’ the world a public motherfuckin’ service if I can keep Tavbro’s smile all around.” Tavros blushed, but didn’t have a chance to respond before Gamzee was getting to his feet. The Slytherin ruffled the Gryffindor’s mohawk affectionately and said, “Thanks for trustin’ me, Tavbro. Now I gotta motherfuckin’ return the favor like a real bro.”

“Of course, I trust you, Gamzee,” Tavros blurted out. Then he realized what Gamzee had just said and exclaimed, “Wait, what? No, you don’t have to tell me, um, it was my choice, to share with you, but, someone’s deepest desire, is something that’s, uh, very private—“

“Of course I trust you too, Tav,” Gamzee interrupted, echoing Tavros’s words. “Not really is motherfuckin’ sure what a motherfucker’ll be up and seein’ though…”

Gamzee closed his eyes and took a deep breath, gathering his courage. Tavros rolled his wheelchair backwards, giving Gamzee his space, watched with baited breath as the tall Slytherin finally turned towards the mirror and opened his eyes.

For a long time, Gamzee’s expression didn’t change at all. Instead, he stared blankly at the glass, and Tavros began to wonder if the mirror had broken Gamzee. He was about to ask, when the Makara finally screwed up his blank features into an expression of confusion. “What the fuck, man? I still don’t see nothin’ motherfuckin’ different!”

“What?” Tavros asked, in pure shock. “But, but it worked for me! The mirror should work, unless—“

Was it possible? Was it possible that Gamzee had want for nothing in the world? Only someone who was completely and utterly happy and at peace should be able to look into that mirror and see nothing but himself! And while Gamzee was cheerful, sure—Tavros didn’t believe that there wasn’t at least something he wanted!

“Look again!” Tavros insisted, refusing to accept this turn of events. “There’s gotta be something you’ve missed, there just has to be!”

“I motherfuckin’ swear, man!” Gamzee cried, a bit defensively this time. “Ain’t nothin’s changed!”

“Gamzee, it’s okay if it’s something, uh, embarrassing. You don’t have to tell me—“

“No, Tavros! I’d motherfuckin’ tell you if I saw myself fuckin’ a goat naked in front of the Weird motherfuckin’ Sisters!” Wow. Oddly specific. “I just see me standin’ there like good old me, and you sittin’ right next to me like the miraculous motherfucker you are!”

And just like that, Tavros felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

“Gamzee,” he said hollowly, still not quite comprehending the information he’d just heard. “I’m not sitting next to you.”

“What? Yes you motherfuckin’—“ Gamzee’s head whipped to the side to acknowledge where Tavros was—or, at least, where he thought Tavros was. He hadn’t realized that Tavros had backed away. “...are.”

And then Gamzee slowly turned back to look at Tavros—the real Tavros—then back at the mirror. “Oh, fuck,” he said, comprehension dawning. “Tavros...I—“

“Your—you greatest desire—“ Tavros stammered. “Your greatest desire is...oh god…” Tavros buried his face in his hands, muffling his voice. “I didn’t know. It’s…me.”

Suddenly, Gamzee leapt across the room, knelt in front of Tavros’s chair and desperately grabbed the the armrests. “Tavros, brother, this wasn’t meant to be creepy or shit,” Gamzee explained. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. I didn’t even know either! I mean, I knew I wanted you, I just...didn’t know how much I actually up and wanted you. Like, I didn’t know how you felt and shit and I wanted to play it motherfuckin’ cool, that’s why I asked about the motherfuckin’ snoggin’ but you up and absconded…”

Tavros felt as though stones had dropped in his stomach. “I...I thought you were joking around. I didn’t think you were serious.”

“I was serious, man,” Gamzee said. “Everything I ever motherfuckin’ said to you has always been serious, because I...motherfuckin’ care about you.”

“For how long?” Tavros croaked.

Gamzee was silent for a moment. “Well, first year, I motherfuckin’ guess,” he finally supplied. “Motherfuckin’ saw you on the train. Didn’t have the guts to talk to you till Potions class, though. But I knew right away that I…” he trailed off, searching for the right words. “...that you were special.”

And then Tavros thought about it, long and hard. About the way Gamzee always complimented him. About the way Gamzee would always ask about his day and if he needed anything. About the way Gamzee looked at him. About the way Gamzee was always respectful about Tavros’s disability, how he tried not to do anything unless Tavros was completely comfortable with it. About how Gamzee seemed to go out of his way to hang out with him, sometimes. About Gamzee’s invitation to visit Hogsmeade together that one time. About the way Gamzee always greeted him with the brightest of smiles, unfalteringly, for all these years. Tavros always thought that Gamzee was just a naturally smiley person, but what if that wasn’t the case? What if he was smiling because of Tavros?

All of Tavros’s qualms about his friendship with Gamzee seemed so petty, all of a sudden. So what if their blood statuses were different? So what if Gamzee was rich and Tavros poor? So what if Gamzee was an able-bodied athlete and Tavros a cripple? So what if one was in Gryffindor and the other in Slytherin?

How could any of that compare with the way Gamzee felt for Tavros…?

And just like that, Tavros felt his heart completely melt.

Tavros wasn’t sure what kind of expression he was wearing on his face right now, but Gamzee seemed to interpret it negatively. “Oh shit, Tavros, please, this don’t mean anything has to motherfuckin’ change between us, we already got ourselves the most beautiful of bro-ships a motherfucker can bear to look at with his bare motherfuckin’ eyes, and if you don’t up and abscond from me this time I’ll up and be the happiest motherfucker in the whole damn world.”

“Except...you won’t be,” Tavros muttered, looking back at the mirror.

Gamzee failed to understand at first, but when he did he quickly shook his head. “Aw motherfucker, bein’ with you some way’s better’n not at fucking all. ‘Sides! I’ll be like, almost the happiest motherfucker in the whole damn world, and like, motherfucker can’t have everything I want anyway, right? That’d be wicked unfair to all the other motherfuckers tryin’ to get their happiness all on.” Gamzee let out a chuckle, but it was a bit forced and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Tavros could barely believe it. Here he’d been, unconfident about every damn thing except the fact that he was useless and undesirable and would probably be a lonely cripple for the rest of his life. And now here he was, finding out that a boy had desired him for four fucking years.

And not just desired him. Desired him more than anything else in the whole world. The concept was almost inconceivable for Tavros. “Oh my god,” he exhaled.

“Tavros, I’m on my motherfuckin’ knees beggin’ you not to change the motherfuckin’ miracles we got here. Nothing has to change. We can just go right the motherfuck on like tonight never even fuckin’ existed. Like we Time-Turned and erased it or some shit, or got our motherfuckin’ Oblivionating or whatever on each other—“

“But what if I want something to change?”

Gamzee swallowed, but the devastated look in his eyes was absolutely heartbreaking. “I ain’t motherfuckin’ FORCING anything on you but I am MOTHERFUCKIN’ BEGGIN’ you to RECONSIDER.”

Tavros gulped at the slightly maniacal glint in Gamzee’s eyes; he had never seen his friend like this before and it kind of frightened him. But there were enough other emotions in his heart to overpower his fear. Gently; he lowered his hands to his armrests and rested his palms on Gamzee’s hands. Gamzee immediately stilled when he felt Tavros’s hands touch his own, and he looked up at the Gryffindor boy with glistening eyes.

Tavros took a few deep breaths and willed himself not to choke on his own words. “If I wanted to abscond, I would’ve, uh, done that by now. I’m just, uh, shocked. I always thought, it would be a miracle, if anyone ever even liked me, let alone...this. And I don’t understand how you can care about someone, so much to the point of, seeing them in this mirror...I mean not to mention that we’re only, uh, fourteen. That’s kind of, um, young? For...love?”

“Motherfucker, I’ve up and heard that kind of noise, but I’m tellin’ you, I don’t motherfuckin’ choose when the miracles come.”

“I’m, kind of scared to hang around you now, because I feel like you’ve put me on a pedestal and I’m just going to let you down. There’s really not much more to me, than, uh, this. And I honestly don’t know, if I ever even liked you, like that. Uh, I liked being your friend, but I was too scared, to think about any other possibilities. Actually, I was kind of scared to even be your friend, sometimes, because you’re in Slytherin and you’re on the Quidditch team...and you’re a pureblood…”

Tavros watched as Gamzee’s face fell. The Slytherin opened his mouth to say something but Tavros shook his head, indicating that he wasn’t finished talking. “But, uh, even though I’m a generally scared person, there are some things, that I value, more than being scared. Uh, things like kindness and selflessness and, uh...love. And I knew you had all of those things, before, but...wow, you still, really amazed me tonight. I mean wow, my wanting to walk, all seems kind of, childish and stupid, now...

“So, uh, all things...considered, I’ve decided that, someone like you, is definitely someone I could like, you know, in a, like like, kind of way, so, disregarding, my confused feelings in the past, starting from this moment I, uh, officially like you, Gamzee Makara. I mean, if that’s, uh, okay.”

It took Gamzee several moments to recover his jaw, which had gradually fallen to the floor throughout Tavros’s little speech. When he was capable of speaking again, his eyes were wide as saucers and he spoke in an almost deafening holler of excitement. “Okay? Motherfucker, that is so motherfuckin’ okay that it’s—“

“I don’t feel about you the way you feel about me,” Tavros interrupted bluntly, wanting Gamzee to be completely clear of what he was getting himself into. “Honestly, I can’t even comprehend what exactly it is you feel. And, I still think we’re too young to make any real decisions, about relationships and all that. But I think that can change and, I’m willing to give this a chance. And, uh, in the hypothetical situation, that someone was holding a wand to my neck, and forcing me to choose, someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, uh, I’d still think it was too early, but...I’d choose you.” Immediately, Tavros cringed at his own words. “Wow, that, sounded a lot more romantic in my head.”

“That shit was the most romantic shit I ever heard in my whole life,” Gamzee smiled. He was smiling so widely that he would be worried about his mouth splitting his face in two, if ecstatic disbelief were not occupying every molecule of his being already. “Shit’s so romantic I’m all up and embarrassed now.” And he ducked his head, too shy to meet Tavros’s eyes all of a sudden, because holy shit Tavros motherfuckin’ knew his secret now. Tavros knew and he didn’t hate Gamzee, and now he was willing to try to reciprocate! Gamzee didn’t care if Tavros didn’t ever end up feeling half of what Gamzee felt for him; just the opportunity to try this out was the sweetest gift.

Gamzee’s episode of bashfulness Iasted all of ten seconds before his eagerness caught up to him again. He lifted his head and recaptured Tavros’s beautiful eyes with his own. “Can we motherfuckin’ snog now?”

Tavros laughed at was could only be described as a perfect display of Gamzee spontaneity, before his mind caught up to the words he’d just heard and he blushed a brilliant red as scarlet as the banner of his House. “Uh, I, uh—uhh—“ he stammered.

Gamzee started to lean away. “Bro, I know this is all motherfuckin’ sudden, so if it ain’t in tune with your chill—“

“No,” Tavros said, a sudden spike of confidence surging through him. He tightened his hold on Gamzee’s hands on the armrests of his chair, preventing the Slytherin from escaping. “I, uh, this, I—I want this. So um, yes. Yes we can.” Tavros swallowed thickly, resisting the urge to pull out his wand and Vanish all the saliva from his mouth. He didn’t want his first kiss to think he was a slobbery mess…He would’ve cleaned himself up before embarking on his midnight escapade if he had known this was going to happen.

Gamzee nodded, for once at a complete loss for words. He tilted his upwards and began leaning towards the boy he loved without breaking their eye contact. He paused when he was just a few centimeters away from the Gryffindor’s soft-looking lips, so different from his own chapped ones. He ran his tongue over his lips and allowed his eyes to flutter shut. “Finally,” he murmured, and before Tavros had a chance to respond, he closed the distance between their mouths.

For someone who wanted to snog Tavros so badly, Gamzee was exceedingly gentle—almost painfully so. He only just barely grazed Tavros’s lips, as though afraid that if he pressed any harder, Tavros was disappear, nothing more than a illusion.

Tavros wasn’t sure what he expected from the kiss, but he was pleasantly surprised by a warm, pleasurable sensation filtering into his bloodstream. It was stirring and magnetic—it was somewhat like the first time he held his faithful wand in his hands at the age of eleven in Ollivander’s shop...but also something different altogether, as though his and Gamzee’s souls had been bonded closer together by some undefinable magic...he leaned into the kiss, seeking more contact with Gamzee’s warm lips than the fleeting brush he had been teased with.

It was an innocent kiss: only a few seconds long and chaste, tongues remaining inside the mouths of their respective owners. But it represented something more: a doorway, a promise of potential for something more. Something beautiful. Something utterly magical.

It wouldn’t be easy. In the morning, Tavros would have to face the scrutiny of his judgmental, House-biased and blood-biased classmates, and the subsequent blow to his self-confidence. And Gamzee still had more personal demons to deal with than the Wizengamot had crooked wizards.

But love, the most ancient, powerful kind of magic in the wizarding world, did not come at the price of being easy, did it?

Gamzee and Tavros smiled at each other, both their cheeks stained red, their faces still close together—not so much so that they’d have to go cross-eyed to look at each other, but enough to feel the each other’s warm breath on their face.

“I think I’m the happiest motherfucker in the world right now,” Gamzee whispered after a few minutes.

“I’d say you were being cheesy, but, uh,” Tavros glanced at the mirror on the other side of the room, “I think, I actually believe you.”

For the first time since discovering the Mirror of Erised, Tavros had no desire to look at its reflection at all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And that concludes my first one-shot! What did you all think? Agree with my Sorting? Love it? Hate it? I tried my best, but I do not truly understand what love and desire feel like. I’d love the hear your thoughts and maybe start some trashy Homestuck/Harry Potter conversations. I’m such trash for H-fandoms.


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